For your headcanon request: The first time Komahina left the WOH alone for a date night, Komaeda was worried that the kids would be alright and was texting them to check in every so often. Hajime, in comparison, seemed pretty calm. But deep down every time the kids texted back something like "Jeez, Dad, we're fine! Chill!" He would let out a little sigh of relief, too, because darn it he's the SHSL Dad of course he wants to know for sure that his kids are fine.

I think one of the biggest mysteries in Noragami is the question in matter of how Yukine died. I have no doubt in mind that we will all learn the fate of how Yukine died later on as the series continues, however, there is just something so sad and absolutely awful regarding the ways of how Yukine could have died when you actually analyze all the clues the author gives us. (This is gonna be long, so prepare yourself.)

I feel like everyone is made to assume that his father is to blame due to his implied abusive nature, and that Yukine could have died because of the injuries he received, BUT (although I do agree to that in some degree) I don’t really think this is the reason why. I’ve honestly never really believed that his injuries could have killed Yukine, since it would never really explain WHY Yukine is afraid of the dark, and also why he felt like he was suffocating in that box they put him in Chapter 70.

But, okay, let me just get into this theory before it gets too long:

So, I think we should ALL start off with THESE to look at first. Right off the bat, we see luggage, and right next to it we see a mother and some little girl (assuming it’s his sister) leaving with the exact same luggage. I think it’s safe to assume that his mother and sister left, and for some reason Yukine was left behind with a very drunk and either mentally or abusive (or both) father. More importantly, its THIS photo that stands out to me.

Those mails doesn’t seem to be bills to me, but more like correspondence. Yukine, I feel, was sending letters to either his mother or sister, telling them about something that his father did not like. Do you see that authoritative gesture the dad makes with his foot? Stomping on them in such manner? That isn’t a, “Yukine, what have you been sending behind my back?” or, “Darn, these bills are a fucking bitch.”

This is a, “What the fuck have you been doing,” and a “Oh, so you think you’re smart?” It’s very authoritative. And it’s scary. It’s definitely mentally abusive when you think about it.

Then, of course, we get this:

Don’t know what it is? Here.

It’s a post box. When we first meet Yukine as a little fluff ball, he was floating around the post office like he was waiting for someone to come, or waiting for his mail to come.

I think the most saddening clue as well is this:

I don’t know if you guys can see if that clearly, but let me just mark it.

To be honest, you guys can argue that it’s just the shading that made the wrinkles on Yukine’s wrist look deep. And it was the shading that made the bandages look wet at some parts and the others dry. And so for this, I consulted a friend who is an artist, so let me just leave you with this: The rest of the bandages that doesn’t seem to be green because of the color scheme is gray. However, how curious is it that the bandages is a MUCH darker gray in the areas of the skin?

AND THIS IS THE MOST HEARTBREAKING BREAKTHROUGH I FEEL NOT MANY PEOPLE GET.

As a regalia, Yukine has bandages. Fucking. Bandages. Guys. Why would bandages appear in his weapon form if it wasn’t important for him? As if these bandages weren’t a big part of his life? That’s honestly why I feel like self-harming was a thing Yukine did constantly. It wouldn’t make sense why these bandages would appear even after death if it was a temporary and insignificant thing for him. His father was so UTTERLY horrible that it pushed Yukine to this extent, and that’s so horrible.

So let’s keep looking at this father of his, shall we?

This, I feel, reveals a lot. It’s the, “What does it mean?” picture that the author keeps throwing at us. Where is this? I don’t know. After countless of hours researching on arc bridges in Japan, forests, and railways, I could not find a single photo that had that exact same building anywhere on the internet. I now know that the areas where the author draws the Noragami characters are actual real places, however, I JUST CAN’T FIND THE FUCKING LOCATION.

So finding out where this site could possibly be is an idea thrown out of the window– for now. But, let’s pay attention to the boy. All this time, I thought it was Yukine.

I mean, it had to, right?

Right?

EH, WRONG.

His

Hair

Doesn’t

Match

Again, ya’ll can fight me saying it’s just a dark lighting and you just couldn’t see the spikes in the hair. LIKE, THE AUTHOR CLEARLY MADE SHADING AND LIGHT CAPTURE IN THE BOYS HAIR SO YOU CAN SEE SPIKES.

AND THOSE AREN’T HIS SPIKES. That haircut is flat.

So who is this boy? Is it even a boy, or a young man? It can’t be his father. The detail in the hands look far too young. And, this isn’t like the author is giving us this picture for nothing. They keep on throwing this picture to our faces in the manga over, and over, and over again. It’s significant, and tells us the last moments on Yukine. And it doesn’t seem Yukine spent his last moments at home, being abused by his dad, and being buried in the backyard. This site has BRIDGES. Trees that belong in forests, Also, where is the coffin? Cause those metal parts around the picture definitely don’t look like a coffin like most people think. Yukine is far out, away from cities, so how did he get there?????

I think it’s good to look back at the genre of this manga. It’s shonen, so we can rule out sexual abusive like some people have theorized. We can rule out anything so gruesome, because this manga is already dark as it is, so it wouldn’t be like…Yukine being stabbed 12 times in the chest and left to die. Yukine’s dad definitely played a part in his death, and this is where the theory comes in.

There is so many implicit messages that depict Yukine being trapped in something, and getting so scared and utterly desperate to get out something. The author wouldn’t have put so many details in Yukine’s fingernails, and the picture of a boy hovering over some kind of opening keeps getting repeated in these scenes where Yukine is calling out for his dad and attempting to scratch his way out.

Theory: Yukine, did not, in fact, die of the inflicted wounds caused by his father, if he even hurt him that badly. It’s more likely according to the information given that Yukine died of suffocation, and this is more likely manslaughter. Perhaps the boy isn’t even a boy, but his dad, seeing as Yukine kept on calling out for his dad. His dad buried his son alive, or made someone else carry on his dirty deed for him. Yukine’s father had full intent to get rid of his son, and unfortunately, Yukine must’ve suffered a slow and painful death.

His life had gotten pretty shitty as it neared it’s end, and I don’t know about you, but no character has ever gotten me this sad to the point where I cried in episode 9. Because it seemed he wanted to live so bad, and this young boy, barely even a pre-teen, suffered a death so horrible.

I just feel like unlocking the story behind Yukine’s death might happen soon in the next upcoming chapters, and I honestly can’t wait to see what kind of character Yukine’s father was.

“So a little background: I’m a Navy kid and I moved all around the east coast until my dad retired when I was 14. When I was about 8 or 9, we lived in Newport, Rhode Island in your standard Navy housing development. The units on our street were recently remodeled, but my best friend at the time lived in the only unit on the street that wasn’t. His name was Michael, and we’d hang out all the time after school and on the weekends. He’d always sleep over at my house, but never let me stay over at his house. I’d only ever been in his house twice, and I’m about to tell you why.

The second time I was at Michael’s house, we were sitting in his living room watching Power Rangers. It’s early afternoon and his mom is making us lunch. Michael’s mom yells out ‘Gosh darn it! Why didn’t anyone tell me we’re out of cheese?’ or something along those lines. She comes into the living room to tell us she’s running to the NEX convenience store down the road to pick up some cheese. She leaves and we continue watching TV. We never left the chairs we were in while Michael’s mom was gone.

About 10 minutes later she gets back to the house and heads to the kitchen and SCREAMS BLOODY MURDER. It made both Michael and I literally jump out of our chairs, then we both start laughing because we thought she was playing a joke on us. I turned around expecting her to be standing there, but she was still in the kitchen. She yells ‘Michael?! Michael?!’ and we go running into the kitchen. ‘Michael, did you do this?’ We both shake our heads. Every cabinet was open. The refrigerator was open. All the drawers were pulled out to the point just before they’d fall out of the counter. Michael’s mom tells us to go to my house to finish watching our shows and as we’re leaving she calls Michael’s dad, crying.

We get to my house and finish watching Power Rangers and then whatever show was on after that. Michael says he better go home and find out what’s going on and leaves. I tell my mom what happened and she explains that Michael’s mom has been experiencing lots of weird things over at their place and tells me I’m not allowed back in his house. I was unaware of any of this and my mom says it’s because they don’t like to talk about it. Here’s two more stories she shared with me.

The first occurrence happened about two months before the previous story. Michael had pneumonia and was resting in his bed upstairs. His dad was at work and his mom was downstairs cleaning. She hears the door slam shut, open and slam shut again so she walks upstairs to make sure Michael wasn’t up walking around. She opens the door and Michael is still out cold, in the same position he was in when she left him. Michael’s mom shrugs it off and goes back downstairs to finish cleaning, leaving Michael’s bedroom door open.

A few minutes later the door slams shut again, this time even harder. She walks upstairs and tries opening the door - it’s locked. She keeps trying and knocks on the door. Michael is completely knocked out so he doesn’t hear a thing. At this point, his mom is panicking. She slams her body against the door and it finally opens. Michael is in the exact same position, but his covers are strewn about and his closet door is wide open. Michael’s mom wakes him up and tells him to come sleep downstairs so she can keep an eye on him.

It’s a few weeks later and Michael is staying overnight at my place. His mom is home alone because his dad had some kind of overnight duty. She’s asleep in bed, all doors and windows locked, and wakes up to the toilet flushing over and over again. it’s happening so rapidly there’s not even enough time for the bowl to finish making the filling up sound. She gets out of bed, thinking maybe Michael came back home, and walks to the bathroom. As soon as she gets to the doorway the flushing stops. She takes the lid off of the bowl and inspects to make sure nothing is wrong, then goes back to bed. She’s just about to fall asleep when it happens again. She walks halfway down the hallway and says “Hello?” As soon as she speaks, it stops. She walks the rest of the way down the hall and gets to the bathroom. She stands there for a minute and then turns around to walk back to the bedroom when the coat closet door downstairs violently slams shut. She books it to the bedroom and calls 911, telling them she thinks there’s somebody in the house.

A few minutes later the Navy housing security gets there. They knock on the door but Michael’s mom is too afraid to go downstairs so they use their keys to get in. The security officer announces himself and asks if anyone is there, so Michael’s mom works up the courage to go downstairs and tell the officer what happened. They inspect the entire house together and see that every door and window was locked, as it had been before she went to bed, but the coat closet door was wide open with coats and shoes littered in front of the door.

About a month after my first story, Michael’s family moved away. His dad requested to transfer to another base and ended up being reassigned to somewhere in Jersey. The unit his family lived in stayed untouched, at least up until we moved out of that housing development.”

Can I ask how you make those doodles on your edits cause they are so darn cute :)

ahh thank u so much!!!! i followed a tutorial from tumblr but that confused me a bit and it left out some stuff (and i can’t find it anymore lol rip) so i can make you a little one! i hope this isn’t too confusing :-)

{{ surprise surprise guess who isn’t studying for finals;; weLL ANYWAY i also have some extra utapri music ren eps like half completed so hopefully i can keep activity here up besides just posting this }}

AN: I am so sorry for the slow updating, I haven’t been feeling well so all I have been doing is being lazy and watching movies ^_^. Thank you artemislove5 for the request, I hope you like it! *I do not own the gif, found on google. Please ignore any spelling errors!

Pairing: Pietro (AoU) X Reader

Prompt: Hey love, I was wondering if you could do a one shot of Pietro, that all of the Avengers go camping and the reader has to share a tent with Pietro.

Warnings: Make out session?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Marshmallow”

“I…I don’t know about this.” You muttered, looking around at the team. “Half of these people don’t look like they have ever stepped foot in the woods before.”

Steve was about to tell that you were exaggerating, but then he really looked around. Tony was poking some sort of plant on the ground with a stick, Thor was running around and exploring all of the Midguardian wildlife that he had never seen, and Bruce was moping on a log whilst moaning about how he would rather be in his lab.

“It’s going to be an interesting camping trip.” He nodded at you, then began to carry the tents from the SUV and to the small little camping site.

“LOOK AT ALL OF THIS GLORIOUS MIDGUARD FLORA AND FAUNA AROUND, WHAT A GREAT HONOR TO BE ABLE TO SLEEP HERE TONIGHT.” Thor said– yelled –to the others.

Tony just groaned in response, resting on the heels of his feet and examining different plants with a frown. “How do we know if they are poisonous of not?”

“Pft, city folk.” Clint muttered.

You and Steve exchanged weary glances, then wordlessly ignored those children Avengers and continued to set up camp.

Wanda, being the kind soul that she was, offered to start a fire and set up some logs around the fire pit for everyone to sit on. Pietro noticed that you were carrying things from the car, so he quickly zoomed over to you and kept taking things out of your hands and placing them where they needed to be, even before you could walk away from the car.

Before long, everything was set up.

Night fell over the trees, and the sky was coated by sparkling stars and a glowing, radiant moon. Normally, in New York City, you didn’t get to see stars like this because of all the city lights. And it wasn’t nearly as peaceful as it was here. It was truly beautiful and refreshing.

Steve had managed to gather everyone around the fire and gave them all marshmallows on sticks.

Pietro had never had a marshmallow (much to your horror), so you made him the perfect smore, which was oozing with melting chocolate and sticky marshmallow.

“Are…are you sure that this is right?” He asked with a frown, holding it up to the light of the fire to see what it looked like with more light.

You plucked it from his fingers and held it above his mouth, a very serious expression etched onto your face. “Open up, Speedy.”

Sighing, he parted his lips and you pushed the sugary treat into his mouth. His hands instantly shot up to catch the falling bits of graham cracker that broke apart when he bit it, and you laughed at how messy he looked.

Most of the team was preoccupied with their own treats and conversations, so it was just you who was witnessing this important milestone in his life.

“So, what do you think?”

His blue eyes flickered up to you as he chewed slowly, his handsome face barley visible by the orange light of the fire.

You could tell that he was purposefully chewing at a painfully slow pace to delay his answer. Still, the neutral expression on his face made you worry that he really didn’t like it…

“I love it!” He announced.

You laughed then leaned over to slap his shoulder. “I told you!”

“Except, it is very messy." He mumbled, pressing his fingers together too see how sticky the melted hand marshmallow had made them. "See?”

He held his hand up to you so that you could see the bits of white marshmallow and melted chocolate on them, but right away you knew what he was going to do.

You jumped up from the log that the two of you were sharing and backed away, trying to look as serious as possible. “You keep those sticky fingers away from me, Maximoff!”

He grinned and stood up as well, his hands held out towards you. “Never!”

You hopelessly tried to run in the other direction, only to bump into Steve who was carrying more firewood.

“Protect me!” You begged Steve, using his Dorito like frame to shield yourself from the determined speedster.

“You can not use Steve to hide forever, Y/N.” Pietro laughed as he came to a stop in front of the two of you.

Before Steve could even ask what was going on, Pietro zoomed around the Captain and scooped you up in his arms, and brought you over to the same log that the two of you had been at.

“Pietro!” You shouted, trying to fight off a laugh yourself, as he dropped you to your feet and sat back down on the log with a look of accomplishment in his eyes.

You felt the sticky mess all over your face and went to rinse it off with one of the water bottles that you had brought.

Despite your slight irritation, you were still having a good time.

The fire had begun to die down and the rest of the team had agreed to all head off to their tents to sleep.

You had been weary of the trip when Nick Fury told you all that you had to go, saying it was some sort of ‘bonding team exercise’. But, it turned out to be a really good trip.

Well, that was until now.

You looked over the tents again because something seemed off. Tony and Bruce were together in one, Nat and Wanda, Steve and Clint, Vision and Thor, and Pietro…and you?

“Um, where is Pietro sleeping?”

Steve furrowed his brow and counted the tents again, then cursed to himself when he saw what the issue was (and by cursed, you meant a very frustrated "Gosh darn it.“).

"I swore that I had counted out all of the tents correctly before we left.” Steve muttered apologetically. “I must have left one at the tower before we left.”

You and Pietro looked over at each other, having a silent conversation with your eyes.

“It…it’ll be fine. I mean, it’s only a tent, right? No big deal.” You said with a smile, then went to the car to grab your bags along with Pietro’s.

The rest of the team headed into their respective tents and zipped them up for the night, and after a few minutes of building up the nerve, you and Pietro headed into yours.

Both of you had taken turns changing in the SUV so that you could avoid the awkwardness of changing together in the tent, which you were very grateful for.

“Wow, this tent looks a lot… uh, smaller on the inside than on the outside.” You muttered, as the two of you unrolled your sleeping bags and placed them on the floor of the tent, barley an inch between the two of them.

“Y/N.” Pietro said, plopping down on his sleeping bag.

“Yes?” You answered, doing the same.

“I sleep with my shirt off.” He said, and you could have sworn that you saw a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Swallowing, you nodded and inched off of the sleeping bag so that you could unzip it and slip inside.

There was almost no space to move in the tent, so when he took his shirt off (though you weren’t looking) you felt his bare back brush against yours. Squeaking, you spun around, only to find your nose touching his.

He was shirtless, and damn he looked good. But, even more mesmerizing than his muscles, was his eyes that were locked into yours.

Wordlessly, your lips gravitated towards each other, and before you knew it, you were kissing.

Gently at first, but then his hands got tangled into your hair and your arms slipped around his neck, pulling you two closer to each other.

He moaned into your mouth and pushed you backward until you were laying on your sleeping bag. Your eyes rolled back as his lips moved from your mouth to the crook of your neck, kissing your sweet spot.

His hands slowly ran up your shirt and rested on the bare skin of your stomach, making your fingers twist even more in his wavy silver locks.

“Those tent walls aren’t made of cement y'know!” You heard Natasha’s voice come from the tent next to you, laughing slightly “Keep your moaning to yourself!”

You both pulled away from each other with light chuckles, still trying to wrap your head around what had happened.

You both silently laid side by side, forgetting about your individual sleeping bags, and fell asleep with the feeling of each others lips.

Hi! Can you please write an Isaac Lahey one shot where him and the reader are dating (she’s stiles’ sister and a werewolf) and it’s their one year anniversary, so he gets her a really cute gift and they go on a really cute date?? I love your stories!! <3

You woke up with a text from Isaac. “Good morning and Happy Anniversary, Love. Picking you up at 5 today. Wear something nice. Love you.” You sent him a quick reply saying you were up and saw his message, and that you would be ready by 5. You told him happy anniversary and got out for bed, getting ready for the night ahead.

******

“Y/N,” you Dad called up to you, “Isaac’s here.” You threw on your shoes and walked downstairs. He was in his tighter dark wash jeans with a white button up, blue jacket, and a thin black tie, with a bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“These are for you,” he smiled and handed you the flowers. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, you clean up pretty nice yourself,” you kissed his cheek and took the flowers, putting them in water before you left. He walked you to the car, opening your door for you, and drove off to wherever he had planned.

He came to a stop on the side of the road. “Is there something wrong,” you said worried.

“No, everything is fine,” he said simply and grinned, getting out of the car and opening your door. “Come on,” he urged you out. He took your hand and led you through the woods were a small path had been cleared.

“This feels like the part in the movie where you murder me,” you whispered to him, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Darn, I think I left my knife in the car,” he joked and pulled you along the path. Lights started to shine from ahead and you gasped when you saw the scene in front of you. A circle of rose petals lined the area where mini heaters, lights, and a table sat. “You have no idea how hard it is to find battery heaters,” he squeezed your hand.

“You did all this,” you looked up at him bewildered.

“With a little set up help from Scott,” he admitted. “Do you like it?”

“I absolutely love it, babe,” you kissed him and then followed him to the table.

“And,” he walked over to a locked box and pulled out tupperware, “I even cooked.”

“What?!” You couldn’t help your excited tone, Isaac never cooked anything that wasn’t a grilled cheese.

“Hold your excitement until we know it’s not bad,” he chuckled. “Spaghetti with meat sauce and rolls. I dropped it off just before I picked you up so it should still be warm.”

“Well it smells delicious,” you reassured him. The two of you ate, holding a hand across the table as you spoke and ate. The only other sounds was that of the woods around you. After your plates were clean you sat down your napkin and smiled at your boyfriend. “I think you should cook for me more often.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled and looked down.

“I have something for you,” you grabbed your purse and opened it, pulling out the the small gift bag. “Happy anniversary.”

Isaac opened the gift bag and pushed aside the tissue paper, pulling out the watch and looking it over. “Everywhere I looked it said that the modern first anniversary gift a clock. And I remembered you saw that awhile ago when we went shopping and you said you liked it,” you rapidly muttered.

“I love it, Y/N. It’s perfect,” he squeezed your hand. “I have something for you too,” he got back up and walked back over to the box he had had the food in. “I, on the other hand, had no idea of what to get you. So, I came up with, what might be, the dumbest gift ever,” he ended with a shrug and handed you the bag.

You reached in and pulled out a Build-A-Bear Wolf. “You got me a wolf,” you giggled, definitely not expecting that.

“Press the paw,” he told you in shame and buried his head in his hand. When you pressed the paw a recording of him howling sounded off.

“Oh my gosh,” you laughed so hard that tears started dripping on your cheeks. “Did you howl like this in the store!”

“No, I bought the recorder, went home and did it, then brought it back and made the wolf,” he too was about to cry from laughing. “I thought it would be cute.”

“It is cute,” you grabbed his hand. “It’s funny but also very cute. I love it! And now I can hear you even when we aren’t together. Thank you.”

You helped him clean everything up and walked back to the car. “Do you really like your present,” he looked at it as it sat in your lap during the car ride back.

“I love him,” you pulled the little wolf to you. “It might even be cuter than you.”

Hey love ya work! ^^ Would you pretty please try your hand at writing the companions reacting to a FSS being super sick (in a good way) at fire poi! lol I'd totally use fire poi as a weapon.. (romanced or not is w/e) thanx lovely!

Of course, *googles fire poi.* OH HOLY SHIT OF COURSE I WILL I DIDN’T KNOW THAT’S WHAT IT WAS CALLED. I need to draw a pic too because it’s so freaking awesomely visual I can’t NOT do it. Plus I get to practice all the fun layer techniques yay. Shit yeah imagine using two shishkebabs for this! Whoo! You’re a badass anon <3 (nsfw-ish?)

Ada: “You are very talented. I calculate it must have taken years to get to that skill level. Might I recommend some fire retardant clothing? It would be safer.” She had never seen this before and noticed that her internal monitor was beeping wildly. Strange.

Cait: “Well damn! I knew you were packing heat on the battlefield but who knew you were hiding this fine talent!” The more she watched, the more aroused she got. She squished her legs together because Sole’s masterful manipulation of fire was making her wet.

Codsworth: “Oh, erm, ahh, mmm, Muuuuum/Siiiiiir, please be careful with that fire! It is so very dangerous for your dainty human flesh. Oh I can’t bear to watch!” He covered all his eyelets with his robot arms in fear Sole would drop it. He definitely peeked though.

Curie: “WOOOAH!” *rapid applause* She was as mesmerized to Sole’s fire as a moth is to a lamp. The afterimage danced on her irises. She didn’t even want to blink to miss a second of her love’s amazing performance. She even almost forgot to breath she was so captivated.

Danse: “hmmf. Looks pretty but what’s it’s practical use?” He folded his bulky metal arms as Sole abruptly stopped and cracked their neck. He wanted to see practical use? He’d see practical use. The next mission Danse killed 9 ghouls. Sole made sure to kill 18 just to prove their point. Danse was totally sneaking peaks.

Deacon: *whistles* “10 points for the vault dweller from vault 111! I admit, that’s something I don’t think I’d do. One because ouch, fire. And two because the heat totally messes up my hair.” He was gonna let Sole have this one. Even if he tried, he didn’t think he could look half as cool as Sole looked right now. Maybe this would be an awesome way to earn caps!

Dogmeat: *wags tail at a safe distance*

Hancock: “ohhh hiding this from me were we? What’s the deal? You gonna share this tactic or what? I’m ready” The skill, the power, the ease that Sole was spilling with the sticks made his heart race. Sole couldn’t say no to that bloodthirty look in his eyes and he refused to quit until he knew at least the basic techniques. Hancock uses this as an intimidation technique now.

MacCready: “Well now and I thought you said I was the showoff.” He folded his arms against a signpost as Sole did their dance. He had to admit, he was actually really impressed. They looked really cool. Especially as the light danced off their skin. He’d never admit it though. It’d go straight to their head.

Nick Valentine: “I’ll be darned, the kid’s got talent, charm, and skill.” Sole gave him no warning, just full on broke out into fire poi when they were killing ferals. knocked down every one too. In all his days he’d never seen a thing like it. Good thing too he could just grab Sole into a kiss mid performance because fire didn’t hurt him as much.

Piper: “I get my very own performance? That’s hot Blue.” She left the ending vague on purpose because she really meant everything. The way Sole was moving their body made her so antsy. How could something so simple make her fall so much more in love with this person?

Preston: “Never expected someone to steal my heart with fire but here we are.” He placed a hand over his heart for emphasis and leaned back to show what an impact Sole was making on him. His love was amazing in every way, shape, and form.

Strong: “HUMAN PLAY WITH FIRE. FIRE DANGEROUS! STRONG SAVE YOU!” He crushed the offensive sticks before his massive feet. This was the 27th time Sole tried to show him their fire poi but every time he just freaked out. Fire bad!

X6-88: “Impressive. I think the Commonwealth truly has something to fear with you around ma’am/sir.” He nodded in extreme approval. He watched how Sole moved their hands and soon enough, he was able to copy it, even though Sole took classes once a week on Saturdays for 3 years before the war to learn. He spun right next to sole and passed the fire baton over. When Sole caught it he gave one of his rare smiles. They were badass and in sync.

~Extra~

Maxson: He watched Sole’s performance in silence, trying hard to cover his throbbing hard on with his coat which was getting noticeably hot under the collar and it definitely wasn’t the heat. He gave Sole a generic compliment after they were done but Sole began noticing new “pyrotechnic installments” on the Prydwen. Wonder what those are for.

Glory: “WOOO! FUCK YEAH SOLE!” *BANG! BANG! BANG!* Sole almost dropped their sticks when they heard her gun go off. But, with just a quick glance back, Sole just saw her really getting into it. with her gun. pointed at the sky. cheering at the top of her lungs.

Can you do a scenario where you are playing video games with exo and there's lot of arguing/teasing and suho gets really jealous because of how physical you're being with the members? (He likes you, but you aren't dating) And he finds a way to "show" you his feelings? winkwink*

I hope I answered your request properly. If you aren’t satisfied with it, send in an ask and I’ll redo it ^^ Warning: it’s a bit long

Suho stretched out his arms, groaning, before letting his head drop onto Xiumin’s shoulder. Baekhyun found a channel that was playing a marathon of It’s Okay, That’s Love, Kyungsoo’s drama, and decided that they should rewatch the episodes with Kyungsoo. To make fun of him For support, of course. They were halfway through the tenth episode when Tao, Sehun, and Kai came in. The older one reached for the remote on Baekhyun’s lap. “Hyung, can you get off the couch? We’re going to use the TV,” Sehun announced, balancing bowls of snacks in his arms. “We’re watching something. Go play your games somewhere else.” Suho’s eyes never left the TV screen as he threw a pillow in the maknae’s general direction. Kai fake sighed and set water bottles down. He stuck his head out the door, shouting, “Noona, Suho says we can’t play in here because he’s using the TV.” “Really?” you yelled back. You were at the front door, taking off your coat. “Darn, I wanted to kick your butts at Mario Kart.” At the sound of your voice, Suho immediately straightened up and attempted to fix his hair, hissing to the younger members, “You should’ve told me _____ was coming.” Sehun gave an innocent shrug and grinned, “I didn’t think you’d want to know.” Suho narrowed his eyes, but when your face popped up from behind Kai’s shoulder, the frown slid off his face. “Hi, _____,” he greeted from his place at the couch. “Oppa,” you nodded your head in acknowledgement. “Sorry, we didn’t know you were using the TV.” “It’s alright, I—” “_____-ah!” You squeaked in surprise as strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you into the air. You recognized Chen’s laughter and demanded that he put you down. He set you back down on your feet but kept his arms around you. Propping his chin on your shoulder, Chen glanced at Suho. “We can play in Lay’s room, if we can’t in here. We still have the system set up from last time.” “Chen, _____ might not be comfortable going into a guy’s room,” Luhan mentioned quietly. The rest of the members knew that he meant Suho wasn’t comfortable with you going into a guy’s room. You waved him off, “I’m fine with it. Let’s go—” “W-wait,” Suho interrupted. By now, all of the EXO members were assembled in the living room and their eyes were on him. Suho cleared his throat. “You guys can play in here. We were just watching some old episodes.” “Are you sure that’s okay?” you asked. He nodded in response. Smiling, you cracked your fingers and rolled back your shoulders. “Alright, what are we waiting for? Ready for me to completely annihilate you?” You settled down on the ground, next to Chanyeol, as the game quickly started. The first round was you against Luhan, Kyungsoo, and Tao. You were pretty good (to their surprise), but when the three boys gave each other a look, it was obvious that they decided to team up against you. Soon, you dropped from first place to last. “Yah, Huang Zitao!” you threw down your controller when the race ended. “I demand a rematch!” “You’re so bad, noona!” he crowed. “What were you saying about beating us earlier?” “Why you little—” Luhan had to grab you in order to keep you from tackling Tao. You had done that last time he taunted you. “Calm down, _____,” Luhan said, holding you against his side. “But oppa, he cheated!” He patted your head, “I know, but we have to let the others play now.” You pouted but stayed curled up, practically cuddling with Luhan, as you watched the next round. You couldn’t see the way Suho practically burned holes into the back of your head. It wasn’t long until it was your turn again, this time against Chanyeol, Kris, and Lay. “Stop it, Chanyeol,” you snapped when he started elbowing you. He smirked, “Make me.” Suho watched you bite your lip in frustration, trying to focus on the game. Because Lay decided to let you pass him, you barely managed to snag third place. Xiumin noticed how antsy Suho looked and decided to speak up. “You know, they’re doing all this to get a reaction out of you,” the older boy murmured. “I can believe that,” Suho sighed, a knot forming his stomach, as you started play fighting with the younger members. They knew about his crush on you. “You should just tell her you like her,” Xiumin raised an eyebrow. “That’ll make things a lot less awkward.” Suho hummed softly before sliding down to the floor next to you. Baekhyun had changed the game to something that you never played before. “Noona, how about a practice round?” Sehun challenged. Despite your protests, he selected characters and set an arena. The screen counted down five seconds until displaying ‘Round Start’. With in a minute, Sehun’s character had beated yours down to half health. “Wait, I don’t know any of the moves!” “Here, I’ll help you,” Suho offered, moving so that he was sitting behind you, trapping you between his legs. His arms went around you and his hands on top of yours as he pressed a few buttons on the controller. “This one is to jump…this one to kick, the other to punch. If you press these three, it’ll be a five-hit combo…” Chen couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of Suho (yes, EXO-K leader Suho) trying to flirt. Xiumin quickly shushed him and Kai, trying not to ruin the moment. “You think you got it?” Suho asked you after a bit. You nodded, but he didn’t move away. His arms stayed around you and his chin was placed on the crown of your head. You were going to say something when he suddenly tightened his hold, blurting out, “Mine.” “Yours? What’s yours?” You couldn’t look at his face, but he was obviously blushing as he continued, “You. I want you to be mine. Only mine. So that I’m the only one that can touch you, the only one that can hold you like this.” “…” Realizing what he just said aloud, Suho let go of you and scooted away. “Wait, no, oh god. Please ignore what I just said. I didn’t mean it.” You frowned at him, a bit disappointed. “You didn’t mean it?” “I did, I just—you kept messing around with the others and it was weird and I..quit laughing, this isn’t funny!” his eyes widened when you and the other members burst into laugher at his embarrassment. “What are you trying to say, Suho?” you tilted your head, a wide smile on your face. “That you were jealous of all the guys?” He scratched the back of his head, looking at the ground, “Yes. I meant what I said. I really like you and…I want you to be mine.”

Alright, so as many of you know in my last theory that went up right before the last cutscene was released, we nailed down that we weren’t playing as William Afton/ Purple Guy and we now know that the technician/ Eggs Benedict is William Afton’s son. Michael Afton. And if you haven’t seen the cutscene already, you can watch it here: X

I’ll try and keep this one short by jumping in right away and saying I’m PRETTY DARN SURE Michael Afton, is in fact: Golden Freddy. Or Fredbear. Whichever ya wanna call him since they’re one in the same.

For starters, if you haven’t already read the FNAF novel The Silver Eyes, you really REALLY should as it explains some things about William and that Golden Freddy is possessed by the ghost of a child named Michael. Michael Brooks, more specifically.

And yes, I realize it COULD be two different Michaels but here’s something to think about while reading The Silver Eyes:

The book is a re-imagining. An AU if you will.

And lets not forget that dialogue from the cutscene:

“Father. IT’S ME.Michael. I did it.I found it. It was right where you said it would be.They were all there. They didn’t recognize me at first butthen they thought I was you. And I found her. I PUT HER BACK TOGETHER.Just like you asked me to.She’s free now. But something is wrong with me.I should be dead. But I’m not. I’ve beenliving in shadows.There is only one thing left for me to do now.I’m going to come find you.I’m going to come find you.”

The IT’S ME and the I PUT HER BACK TOGETHER stand out because I’m pretty darn sure Scott made them as direct references to Golden Freddy’s signature “IT’S ME” hallucinations and his “I will put you back together” line from FNAF 4 as seen below.

Now onto the whole “I found it. It was right where you said it would be.” and the “Living in shadows.” thing.

Now as to what he FOUND it’s likely Baby that he’s talking about OR it could be the Golden Freddy suit he would go on to possess, which could well be the springlock suit Baby sticks us in on night 4 of Sister Location.

So what of this then? Where is Michael going to go? How is he going to find his father when we know William died due to a springlock failure?

Michael is going back to the burned down remains of Fazbears Fright.

In the literal last second of the cutscene, we see something move passed the screen and we can’t make much out since the scene is so dark, but Dawko was able to pause and brighten the last scene enough to give us this:

Just look at the sign back there amidst all the smoke. And who could that be in the corner? Michael possessing Golden Freddy?

Or is it Springtrap?

It is possible Springtrap survived Fazbear’s Fright burning down, since he can be seen in the newspaper artical we’re given at the end of the Good Ending, and when we mess with it’s brightness.

Heyo, my gf and I are planning a Simon and Baz cosplay for a con in March. I tweeted at Rainbow Rowell asking if she had ideas for the crest that would go on their sweaters. She said "Hmm...I feel like you can really improvise this. I mean, wands, stars... What could represent speech?" Now I'm not exactly sure what she meant by representing speech, but I was wondering if you, or your followers had any ideas?

Hey! Ok first of all, I love that you are cosplaying as Simon and Baz omg. I hope it turns out well!

Secondly, on redbubble there are some sweaters already with like watford logo’s like these two: (left x)(right x)

I’ve been to Outback Steakhouse once and I’ve never been back because of one super weird occurance

So this was like two years ago when I was still a massive twat to everyone around me, and I was still a really picky eater. I didn’t like steak much, so when mom said she was taking the family to outback I had a hissyfit. I was almost left home, but fate did not smile upon me.

It’s me, Mom, my stepdad, and my grandparents. They all get big steak dinners, but I decided to just get a really big salad. When all the food finally came out, I was pretty psyched up. That salad looked really good, honestly. I’m just eating away, minding my own darn business, when something lettuce-like but not quite lettuce appears. I figured it was just a weird piece of lettuce or something, but I pulled it out just in case. That shit was an entire latex glove.

The discovery raised 5000 more questions than answers. The glove was in the middle of the salad, so it couldn’t have just been dropped in there before preparation. Was this a prank? How could someone not notice a glove the size of the plate inside of the entree they’re preparing, especially when it was on top of lettuce? How did this even happen? What circumstances had to have risen to make this possible?

I didn’t freak out, I just started giggling. I mean, at least we knew that the chefs at that particular Outback used gloves. My grandmother, however, started flipping out.For whatever reason, she thought it was an animal. She hollering for a manager as I’m cracking up and my mom is begging me to put the glove down so other people don’t see, but everyone already saw thanks to my grandmother.

This poor waitress rounds the corner, and when she sees I’m holding a lettuce covered glove and my grandmother is having a fit, her face turns white and she turns right back around. She gets a manager, the guy apologizes a million times, and gives us about 90 dollars worth of gift cards, which covered all of our meals. Pretty sweet.

Except, under closer examination, every single one of the gift cards are expired. My grandfather was ready to get on the phone and scream the ear off of whatever poor sap was on the other line at Outback, but thankfully my step dad called instead and fixed up the issue, earning an extra 15 dollars for his trouble.

Oddly enough, the song on Revolver whose composition I was most intimately involved in, and most vividly remember, was Paul’s “Eleanor Rigby”. Though John (whose memory could be extremely erratic) was to take credit, in one of his last interviews, for most of the lyrics, my own recollection is that “Eleanor Rigby” was one “Lennon-McCartney” classic in which John’s contribution was virtually nil.

Most of the song was indeed written at John’s house, during one of my weekend visits. The other three Beatles and their women had come over for dinner, after which we all gathered around the television in Cyn’s beloved library, just like any group of eight or ten young people anywhere. (Which, indeed—unmagical and unmysterious as it may strike the reader—was how the Beatles usually spent their free evenings together.) This particular night, however, John—who’d been rather withdrawn and out of sorts all day—grew vocally bored with the TV program. “Fuck this shit,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs and play a bit of music.”

So the guys—Paul, George, Ringo, and myself—duly followed John upstairs to a room adjoining his little recording studio. (The girls, of course, were left downstairs with the telly.) Paul, as usual, had brought along his guitar, which he got out and began strumming. “I’ve got this little tune here,” he said. “It keeps popping into me head, but I haven’t got very far with it.” Then he sang the beginning of “Eleanor Rigby”.

We all sat around, making suggestions, throwing out the odd line or phrase—all of us, that is, except for the Beatle who’d proposed the session in the first place. Then Paul got to the verse about the cleric, whose name he had down as “Father McCartney”. Ringo came up with the line about Father McCartney “darning his socks in the night”, which everybody liked.

“Hang on a minute, Paul,” I said. “People are going to think that’s your poor old dad, left all alone in Liverpool to darn his own socks.”

“Oh shit,” he laughed. “I never thought of that. We’d better change the name. What should we call him, then?”

Because we liked the general feeling of Father Mc-Something, a few “Macs” were called out, but nothing satisfactory came up. Then I noticed a telephone directory lying around, and said: “Give us that phone book then, and I’ll have a look through the Mac’s.”

One name that particularly amused us was “McVicar”, but it didn’t quite seem to flow with the rest of the line when Paul sang it. So I asked him to try “Father McKenzie” out for size, and everyone appeared to like the lilt of it.

After we tinkered with a few more phrases, Paul said: “The real trouble is I’ve no idea how to finish this song.”

Fully caught up in the creative process, I was seized by a brainwave. “Why don’t you have Eleanor Rigby dying,” I said, “and have Father McKenzie doing the burial service for her? That way you’d have the two lonely people coming together in the end—but too late.”

Not a bad suggestion, if I thought so myself—but then John piped in with his first comment of the entire session: “I don’t think you understand what we’re trying to get at, Pete.”

That little remark proved enough to stop the creative juices dead in their tracks. It was so unlike John to disrupt one of the Beatles’ songwriting sessions—let alone insult me in front of Paul, George, and Ringo—that all I could think of to say was “Fuck you, John.” Paul packed his guitar away, and we all wandered out of the room. Even after George produced a joint to lighten up the mood, I continued to feel more than a bit uptight about John’s unwarranted sarcasm. Maybe my great suggestion hadn’t been so great after all.

[…]

Perhaps, I reflected, it was John who for some reason hadn’t understood what we were “getting at”. Or maybe he’d had some fancy ideas of his own he wasn’t telling us about.

sterek au: stiles takes his kids to saturday morning tutoring, and finds himself quite interested in the art teacher.

idk i had the need for derek being an elementary school age art teacher, and stiles being a single father who becomes rather smitten with the hot art teacher in the stupid apron with smiley faces on it.

*

Scott ran ahead in a burst of energy, but Lydia gripped Stiles’ hand and refused to go any further. Stiles halted right outside the door of the Hale’s Educational Center and looked down at the top of Lydia’s red hair, her face buried against Stiles’ leg.

“What is it, berry-bug?” Stiles squatted down in front of her, and Lydia gripped his t-shirt and used it to obscure her face. Stiles ran a hand down Lydia’s braid and tugged on it gently. “This isn’t like you. You’re not shy.”

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

“I thought you wanted to go to art class while your brother went to tutoring.” Stiles rubbed his hand along Lydia’s back, and after a few moments, her hands loosened around his shirt and she pulled back to look at Stiles. She rubbed her eyes with her fists.

“I don’t know anybody, Daddy,” she whispered. When she removed her fists, her eyes were red and damp. “What if they don’t like me? What if they make fun of me because I’m smart like the kids at school?”

Stiles sighed and took her small hand in his. “What did I tell you about those kids at school?”

“To ignore them,” Lydia said. “And that I can be smart and be a beautiful princess.”

“Darn straight,” Stiles said, and Lydia giggled softly. “I can go get the tiara out of the car if it’ll help you feel better.” Lydia nodded, and Stiles grabbed her hand and led her inside. The front desk girl, Cora, smiled when he came in. “Can you watch her for a quick sec? We left something very important in the car.”

Lydia watched him with wide, watery eyes and a wibbling lip, and Stiles just hoped she wouldn’t start crying before he got back with the tiara. Most kids had blankets or stuffed animals they couldn’t be without, but not his Lydia. She always had to have her tiara.

A minute later, Stiles returned with the silver sparkly crown. Scott was holding Lydia’s hand as he talked to his friend, Isaac, and the two girls he “thought had cooties,” Allison and Kira. They had cooties so bad that Scott didn’t shut up about them for days after each of his tutoring sessions. The girls were smiling and talking to Lydia, and she was smiling shyly, while pressed against Scott’s side.

“Lydia,” Stiles said gently, and when her gaze landed on the tiara, her face lit up. Stiles set it on her head, making sure it was secure before readjusting her braid. “There you go, my strawberry princess.”

Lydia threw her arms around Stiles’ neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.

“I love your tiara,” Kira said.

Allison looped her arm with Lydia’s. “My dad bought me a Katniss costume. But he wouldn’t let me wear it today.” Stiles watched fondly as the three girls walked into the art classroom.

“This isn’t a playroom,” someone said from beside him. A dark-haired man with stubble and broad shoulders was glaring at him. Stiles would have felt threatened if the man didn’t have pink paint smeared across his cheek and wasn’t wearing a yellow apron with smiling suns on it.

I went back to check something early on in Gintama, and this arc lept out at me with new significance. I felt, like most readers, that this Utsuro business came completely out of left wing, but after reading the Rengokukan Arc again, darn, now I think Sorachi had this planned almost since Day One of the manga.

Korra let out a growl of frustration, then turned and left. She was more sure that Varrick wouldn’t budge for anything than she was sure he had no artistic integrity, and that was saying something.

…anything she was still willing to do, anyway. The idea of using the Avatar State to scare him might have been tempting; unfortunately she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it anymore. She’d just have to make do with fantasizing about it.